


Foundations

by EyesLikeStorms



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), The Last Jedi
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Rey x Kylo Ren, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo fan fic, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13080456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyesLikeStorms/pseuds/EyesLikeStorms
Summary: What if Rey had said yes? What will it take to really create a new order in the galaxy?**New chapters coming 12/31!**





	1. The Hush

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter story; more chapters are written and will come soon, so please bookmark! Connect with me on Tumblr and let me know what you think: eyeslikestorms.tumblr.com
> 
> You can also check out my other Reylo one-shot, "The Storm."

_Burning everything I know_  
_Desperate for a change_  
_Crashing down the ancient roads_  
_Past our yesterday_  
  
_Maybe there is hunger in my blood_  
_Screaming out loud for what I want_  
_See me running full speed at it_  
_Shattering, collide_  
_Call it post-traumatic_  
_Now it's do or die_

_— Fractures,_ Illenium

* * *

For years, Rey lived in the calm before the storm, the quiet and repressive years that led to _something_ , she knew. She had felt the burning inside of her since childhood, a strange power lodged in her chest that called out to the skies at night.

And finally, the storm began, and she was caught in its torrent, unleashing the fury and the fight within her, along with the whole spectrum of emotions she had abstained from conjuring for years.

She had lunged headfirst into a war, and it was a deceptively simple decision, at first: the good side versus the bad side. The good side had embraced her, Leia and Finn and Han, with open arms. The bad side had tried to lure and injure her in the snowy forest, had tried to murder the first friend she’d ever had, and she had left the bad side wounded and scarred and fearful of her.

And it now stood before her in the form of a young man, hand outstretched, asking him to _join_ her.

" _Please_ ," he said, a desperate whisper.

In the days before the war, in the years of her scavenging, Rey felt submerged in an unseen fog. Finn had pulled her out of it, and together they experienced the clarity of soldiers with a specific goal. And then she had gone to Luke, eager to hone her skills and manage her own might, and the clarity began to fade around the edges as a new fog settled around her, lurking like shadows. She had expected it to always be easy, knowing the difference between right and wrong. But her naivety kept leading to surprises, some welcome and some difficult. The grey morality of the Jedi order had shaken her to the core, and she had come face-to-face with Luke’s residual trauma from his own battles against the darkness. And she couldn’t escape the force bond between her and Kylo Ren — _Ben_ — that had revealed dimensions of who he was, altering her early perceptions of him. Evil was so rarely a dimensionless jet-black obsidian, she knew now; she’d come to think of it more as a black opal, its many faces changing depending on the light.

The calm before the storm had long since dissipated, but no one said that the aftermath of a battle was also a hush.

 


	2. Jump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You talk far too much  
> For someone so unkind  
> I will wipe the salt off of my skin  
> And I'll admit that I got it wrong  
> And there is grey between the lines
> 
> \- Leave a Trace, Chvrches

 

“You're still holding on to the past," he shouted. " _Let go_!" Sparks of their lightsabers still fizzled in the air behind him, and his looming face was superimposed onto the gruesome scene behind him. Bodies littered the floor, bathed in the red. Snoke’s severed body lay in pieces before his throne. By all rights, Kylo Ren was now the leader of the First Order, the most powerful man in the entire galaxy. And he was _shouting_ at her, and her head and body ached, and nothing felt real besides the lightsaber in her hand, the metal now warmed from her palm. She tightened her grip on the weapon, hoping it would infuse her with more strength.

_Let go of the past. Together we can start a new order._

He was trembling; Rey saw the tremors of his hands, his lips, and the quick pulsing in his throat as he regained his breath and steadied his heartbeat.

He was a loose canon, wrapped in black. She was all too familiar with his temper. He was quick to ignite, but it no longer frightened her; rather, at the moment, it _annoyed_ her. There was so much to process, and she was overwhelmed by all that had just occurred.

Ben had killed Snoke. Kylo Ren had chosen her over his supreme leader. And they fought side-by-side in a powerful syncopation that felt so natural, so fluid, _so right_. She was sure killing Snoke was an act of protection — but to protect her, or to save his own skin, she didn’t yet know.

Rey wanted Ben to stop shouting at her.

As if on cue, he did.

Ben took a deep breath through his nose, suppressing his impatience, and once again, held out his hand. With Snoke dead, the bond between them pulsed with renewed fervor, and she felt each of Ben’s emotions like a magnetic pull, tugging at her own, and she realized that some of her turmoil wasn’t her own.

Was it the fight that strengthened the force bond? Or did physical proximity make it more… potent? She was in his orbit now, and he was in hers. The idea of breaking it seemed abstractly painful, and she flinched at the thought.

“I meant it,” he said, his voice low and even. “I want you to join me. I want you by my side.”

She stared at his gloved hand, uncertainty roiling in her gut.

“Take off your glove,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Words were caught in her throat, her mind a chaotic blur of post-battle adrenaline.

It was a test. Would he allow himself to be vulnerable again, like he once had? He no longer wore his mask. The uniform disguised his true self, made it easy for him to hide behind the persona of Kylo Ren. But beneath the armor, he was a young man fighting for his own vision of the galaxy, and she wasn't entirely certain it differed that much from her own private dreams and desires. 

He maintained eye contact as he pulled off his glove. He had mastered the art of intimidation, that was for certain. But she looked back defiantly, unwavering.

His bare hand was outstretched toward her. She remembered his touch — she had expected his fingers to be cold, like hers were every day in the frigid Ahch-To atmosphere, but his were warm. A fire blazed behind his eyes, and she felt the heat and intensity radiating from him.

She met his hand with hers, and their fingers entwined — not quite an embrace, but more than a diplomatic handshake. A joining of two forces, she thought, bridging the divide.

 _Let go of the past_ , he coaxed her.

In passing, Luke had once said a Jedi apothegm that came back to her now: _Jump, and a net will appear._

With a deep breath, Rey jumped into the unknown. 

 


	3. Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind comments, everyone! I'm hopefully seeing TLJ again this week so that will clarify some of my ideas for this story. It's a little tricky working from memory. :) Happy holidays!

Rey placed her hand in his, and his knees nearly buckled. Despite his urgency, his pleading, he had not been expecting… _this_.

 _This_ was victory.

Snoke lay severed and dead. Good riddance. Kylo Ren was too powerful to blindly follow another supreme leader, and for years, Snoke had used him; and in his foolishness, he had let himself be used, but no longer. The galaxy was his, along with the might of the Force, and he’d be damned if he’d ever let anyone control him ever again.

The urge to cry out was so strong that it nearly erupted from his throat, but he bottled it. Still, a roar circulated in his vocal chords as Rey entwined her fingers in his, and a strangled noise of shock and jubilation emerged instead.

Rey did not share his joy. Apprehension was clear on her face: brows furrowed, lips pursed, she looked up at him, as if confirming that this was, indeed, the right choice. He stared back, emotions turbulent in his chest.

After a moment, Rey pulled her hand away, and he nearly lunged for it. _Stop it_ , he snapped at himself. They had work to do now, and he needed to better manage his impulses and outbursts. He was very aware that this newfound alliance was tenuous at best. He’d have to earn her trust.

Everything he’d ever wanted was within reach: complete, utter freedom. He had never factored someone like Rey into the equation, but her presence made the victory all the better. He’d turned a resistance fighter away from the cause, and she was a formidable ally. 

 _Through trust and protection,_ he thought. _Not through anger and intimidation._

Was that really all it took?

He knew that Rey was making a great sacrifice, and hoped it wouldn’t break her.

_It will only break her if you do._

Rey was his equal, he knew that now, felt the truth of it down to his core. She might be less refined, but that edge gave her an advantage. They fought well together, and the force bond made it easier to predict the other’s movements and distress. No other soldiers could say the same.

_How can I train her to focus her power without taking away her raw ferocity?_

“What now?” she asked, brows creased. He wished she would relax her face. She looked dead on her feet, and he couldn’t blame her. The thought of finding his bed and sleeping for a week sounded dreadfully appealing, but that would have to wait. He slipped the glove back onto his hand and twirled his lightsaber, the weight of it familiar in his palm.

“We destroy the First Order,” he said, turning toward the door, readying himself for another fight. “And the Resistance.”

Her eyes flew open in horror, and an invisible string tugged at his navel. He stumbled forward and fell to his knees. Rey stared down at him, eyes blazing. “ _No_!”

His mood blackened, souring his victory. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” he spat, pushing himself to his feet. “What exactly did you think was going to happen?”

She looked wildly around the room for answers. “I thought — we were making a truce! I thought you wanted what _I_ want.”

His curiosity piqued, but he tried to hide it. “And what is that?”

“The war to end. _Without_ violence.”

He scoffed at her naivety, and stifled an eye roll. “That’s impossible. We have to burn it all, and then rebuild. That’s the only way this works!”

“It’s not! Don’t you want to break the cycle?” She was coming undone now, wringing her hands. He felt her doubt in his gut like it was his own. “Must every generation experience a war that annihilates entire planets, destroyed entire civilizations?” She was awake again now, waves of fury radiating from her. He had a compulsion to shield his eyes away from her anger. “If you truly want a new order, it starts _now_. If we’re not equals in this,” she said, stepping forward to close the space between them, “then I have no place here, either.”

She echoed his earlier words: _You have no place in this. You’re nothing._

How was her dream even possible, if the Resistance still lived, and the legion of the First Order needed a leader? He would, once again, be beholden to their interests. He’d go to trial for his crimes, a damning sentence. How could that possibly lead to freedom?

“Politics?” he spat. “You dream of — galactic diplomacy?” The very notion seemed so idealistic that he wanted to laugh in her face, had she not looked so desperately earnest.

“Yes,” Rey said, the word sharp like a knife. “That _is_ what I dream of. If you want to lead, let it be through superior intellect. You’ve idolized your grandfather for so many years that you’ve forgotten your own grandmother was a queen and a senator, not to mention your mother.”

He kept his face passive. “Who told you that?”

“Leia herself, before she sent me to Luke.” Rey looked suddenly wistful at the thought of General Organa, before her expression once again turned dark. “Or did you plan to murder her, too, before starting your 'new order'?”

Kylo reeled as if slapped, but had no response to this. It was true — he’d been ready to do whatever it took, even if that meant losing his mother in the process. In so many ways, it would be easier to start over if his mother no longer existed. If she were gone, maybe he’d stop seeing her face in her dreams, the same look of utter disappointment and desolation at what he had become…

“Ben,” Rey said softly, breaking through his thoughts. “What do _you_ want? What is it you dream of?”

Oof. That question went straight to his core.

_What do I dream of? I have so many dreams, visions, nightmares._

_I dream of my father, my name on his tongue, before I killed him…_

He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“A world in which — people respect power,” he said, slowly. He stared past her face, into nothingness. “And just — total freedom, to be whoever we’re meant to be.”

_A chance to start over._

Rey blinked.

“What?” he said, crossing his arms. “Were you expecting something more monstrous?”

She shook her head. “No. I just don’t understand why all _this_ ” — she looked around the room, at the people they’d killed, at Snoke, and then back at him — “was how you planned to make that come true.”

“The same reason you just agreed to join me,” he said, adjusting his sleeve. “Because you need a purpose, and a teacher, and the Resistance offers you neither.”


End file.
